A Dream Unknown
by Smack54
Summary: New Chapter Up! Two Years after the events in Midnight on the Last perfect Day Tenchi is trying to rebuild his shattered life. Will he find solice in the most unlikely source possible?
1. Demonstration

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters herein they belong to their respective creators and producers not me. 

Foreword: This story is part of the Dreams Continuum and is set a couple years after the events in Midnight on the Last Perfect Day but before Dream Lost. It also crosses with Love Hina and assumes the reader is familiar with that excellent series. 

Demonstration

Tenchi didn't know what he was doing here. It was Friday afternoon, classes were over and he should now be driving home for a weekend talking with Washu and working at the shrine. Instead he had come to the "Arena". The fencing club touted it as a world class training facility although it was nothing more than a modified tennis court. Still other martial arts clubs had taken to using the outdoor matted area and thus it had earned it's nickname. The clubs rotated through on different days, although the fencing club held it's classes here daily during normal school hours. Today the Kendo club was holding a demonstration along with an introductory lesson to anyone interested in joining the club.

Thus the reason for Tenchi delaying his trip home. After three months at Tokyo University his new friend Kitsune decided he spent enough time alone with his painting and declared he was going to join one the clubs pointing out his lack of exercise. He tried to tell the devilish woman he got enough exercise on the weekends but she argued that wasn't regular and he needed some activity during the week. In the end she had slid up close to him and whispered into seductively his ear she would hate to see him lose those his taunt, lean figure. Unable to escape the situation or say no to the alluring fox Tenchi capsulated and agreed to go check out the club. 

So here he was on a warm summer afternoon wishing he could just go home and relax, about to walk into the lion's den. Kitsune had insisted he go out for the Kendo club because she knew somebody on it and could get him in even though he didn't know anything about swords. Tenchi just shook his head thinking at how wrong, the normally perceptive, fox was. In truth Tenchi was possibly one of the most skilled swordsmen in Japan today. Trained by a legendary Samurai and tested against otherworldly foes, Tenchi wasn't exactly worried about any competition here but giving away his unique style of swordsmanship, a secret that had been kept by the Jurai Royal Family for eons uncounted.

Approaching the 'Arena' Tenchi began to hear the buzz of a large crowd, turning the corner he came upon a mass of his fellow students, all of them male. They milled around the edge of the padded area in groups, eagerly discussing the club's president and top fighter, Ayoama Motoko. From snatches of over heard conversation Tenchi learned she was a freshman coming in with high marks, had a following of younger girls who worshipped her, and most dazzling of all she was a descendant of some master swordsman. There were some ugly rumors floating about as well, that she hated men, had been seen going out with other girls, and thus her sexuality was in question. All things aside though the idea of a beautiful Kendo girl brought out the crowds. 

"Tenchi, over here," The voice of Urashima Keitaro called from several meters away.

Tenchi had met Keitaro a few months earlier in a shared history class and the two had become friends. The glasses wearing, history major was a few years older than Tenchi even though they were both sophomores, though Tenchi felt he was rather naïve. Of course that came from the fact that Tenchi, on a certain level, envied Keitaro his girlfriend Naru along with the rumor flying about that the awkward young man lived with a half dozen other girls. It brought up old memories of his own rather, unusual family. 

"Hey Keitaro, how's it going," Tenchi greeted coming to stand with is friend as a low drum began signaling the start of the exhibition. The two managed to find a spot to stand near the edge of the mats next to the bleacher wall as the rest of the crowd piled into the stands. On the warm spring afternoon Tenchi was just a happy standing in the shade as sitting in the sun. These days he seemed more inclined to darkness anyways, a shadow of his former self. Frowning to himself Tenchi decided to leave his brooding at the gate and try to enjoy the show that was starting.

From the locker room door across the arena a slow precession began as club members dressed in red and white hakamas walked around the edge of the mats each stopping at regular intervals until the entire matted area was surrounded. Each carried a wooden boken, a solid wood practice sword that Tenchi was intimately familiar with. They all stood silently staring in towards the arena with their swords at their sides. Through all this the drums kept their steady rhythm until all were in place. Now the tempo began to pick up signaling the demonstration was about to begin in earnest, the crowd hushed. Out from the shadowed doorway a figure materialized. 

She was a vague outline at first, nothing more than shadows. Then shed stepped into the sun. The bright light shined off her long dark hair and sparkled in her focused hazel eyes. Her face was set in grim concentration although there was no denying her attractive features. Her tall form was wrapped in the shapeless hakama like the other club members, but there was something about her that hinted of the treasures underneath. Tenchi, like most of the other males around him, was instantly drawn to her.

Then, just as the crowd was admiring the Kendo girl the club members around the arena suddenly lifted there bokens and surged forward. There was a collective gasp from the spectators one moment, the next the air was filled with a single word. "Zanetsuken!" Half the attackers were suddenly thrown across the arena by a wave of shear energy. Before they even landed on the hard mats the tall girl turned her deadly gaze on the remaining attackers. With a swift series of strikes and parries she laid low any who stood before her.

"This is the club you and Kitsune want me to join," Tenchi asked Keitaro, one hand sweeping out to take in the carnage. The secret prince was appalled, he hadn't seen this kind force used since Jurai and the mess with Matthew Aaron Carson.

"Motoko tends to over do it with these demonstrations," Keitaro admitted scratching his head as a long line of students pushed past the two leaving the arena, most muttering about not wanting to get killed for a club no matter how good looking the president was. Still Keitaro persisted, "Look Tenchi, I promise you it's not always like this. Most of the time it's just practice and occasional sparring. Motoko is a really good teacher I swear."

_Great, _thought Tenchi as Keitaro pulled him towards the Kendo girl as the rest of the club moaned and licked their wounds, _All I need is another person to derided me on my strikes. _A moment latter he was standing in front of this daunting woman as Keitaro made the introductions.

"Motoko, this is Tenchi Masaki."

Authors Note

I LIVE!!! HAHAHAHA!!! Ok now that that's out of the way I can get down to business. It's been a long, long time since I've posted anything but I just haven't had the will to put thought to paper recently. Every time I sit down to write I end up frustrated or bored. My appoligies to the good folks who have been waiting for the last chapter to Dream No More I'm still working on it it's just coming along very slowly. So here I am writing this little ficlet to try and get back in gear. With any luck I'll post a couple of 'episodes' a week. Anyways feel free to tell me what you think and leave a review, those help to kickstart me into writing more.

Thanks

Smack54


	2. Calling Home

Calling Home

Standing at the thresh hold to his small Tokyo apartment Tenchi wearily dropped his backpack on the other side and tiredly stepped inside. He stood alone in the darkness for a few moments before reaching over with his left hand and turning on the kitchen light. Luminescence flooded the small kitchen and living room of his apartment. It consisted of three rooms; a living room/kitchenette, a single bedroom, and a small bath with only a shower, sink, and toilet. A large bay window across the living area opened onto a small terrace that had a rather nice view of the city. Sitting just inside the window was an easel baring a canvas, Tenchi's half finished night time landscape. His furniture was sparse, but serviceable. A kitchen table with two straight-backed chairs. His sofa was dark blue and well padded, a gift from his father along with the coffee table that sat before it covered with art magazines that would be shoved aside when the homework came out. The large bed and simple nightstand in the bedroom had come with the apartment. 

Groaning with each step Tenchi crossed the kitchen into the living room and flopped, face first, onto the couch. After four hours of self induced physical torture there was no way he was going to make the drive back to Okoyama tonight. Which meant calling home so no one worried about him. Tenchi loved his family he truly did, but trying to explain anything to them that involved a girl drove him insane. No matter who picked up the phone he was in for it. His father would shout for joy and then ask for every little detail about how the girl looked and what Tenchi had done with her. Washu was worse, not only would she want details, but would give him hints on how to please her, and then offer to show him how herself. I took ten minutes to get Mihoshi to even listen to word he was saying because she would immediately start babbling about what was going on there or with the GP. Should he even have the misfortune of talking to his grandfather he would face a severe scolding for missing Saturday morning training and then be made to feel bad about whatever he didn't do with whoever he happened to be with.

"Uggh," Tenchi groaned pulling himself up the armrest of the couch draping his lean arms down the side and watching the sun drift below the horizon and usher in another cool spring night. With such a clear night he should be out on the balcony working on his latest landscape, but he was just too tired. That girl Motoko had really taken I out of him. He had hoped by feigning ignorance she would go easier on him. He'd been dead wrong. For nearly an hour they worked on his stance alone before she was happy with it, then came the actual strikes. Or should he say strike, the basic overhead cut he had mastered by the age of twelve. Not according to Motoko Aoyama, she stood there and pointed out every flaw in his strokes. By the end of the session his arms were shaky and his legs cramped from standing in the same position for so long. It was no wonder the club numbered so few with the strict Motoko as their president.

Somehow Tenchi found the energy to get to his feet and slowly shuffle his way to the counter where the phone hung. He had a phone call to suffer through. As he picked up the receiver he glanced above the fridge where his 'clock' dominated the wall. The monstrosity had been a gift from Washu and kept time for every time zone on the planet along with Galaxy Standard and Jurai Central time. It was currently 7:45 P.M. Tokyo time, his eyes happened to wander to the Jurai clock , 3:53 A.M. Ryoko was probably asleep right now, next to him. Tenchi ground his teeth in frustration until the phone next to his ear began to beep, telling him it had been off the hook too long. Shaking away his dark thoughts Tenchi flicked cradle to get a dial tone again and punched in his home number.

"Masaki residence," Mihoshi's voice chimed in from the other end of line.

"Hello Mihoshi," Tenchi answered back just before she went into her usual babbling.

"Oh my, it sounds like I've married into the family," she started giggling, "Does it sound that way to you?"

"Umm Mihoshi it's me," Tenchi tried to get her attention, it didn't work.

"I'm not really married, even though I live here," Mihoshi prattled on happily, "Although Katsuhito told me once he thinks Tenchi and I would be good for each other. I'm not too sure about that, I mean I like Tenchi and all, but I don't even know how he feels about me. Still I guess that's ok because Washu might get really jealous if I started going out with him."

"Umm, Mihoshi it's me. Tenchi," he tried to get through the dialogue again with no success.

"Not that I would mind going out with him, I hear Tokyo has some really nice places," the blonde continued on unfazed by Tenchi's voice, "But our schedules do conflict, I have patrols and he's going to school and all. It must be an awful lot of work."

"Mihoshi who is that," Washu's sharp voice cut through the rambling at the other end much to Tenchi's relief.

"Oh Washu," Mihoshi said apparently surprise the presence of the diminutive scientist.

"Who is on the phone Mihoshi," Washu asked again keeping the GP on track.

"Oh well it', umm," Mihoshi's confusion had Tenchi shaking his head on his end of the line and no doubt Washu was doing the same thing, "Umm who is this?"

"It's Tenchi, Mihoshi," Tenchi got through to her at last.

"It's Tenchi," the blonde called out to Washu before the name clicked in her mind. Suddenly her voice was filled with even more enthusiasm, "Oh Tenchi, how are you. How come your not home yet? You didn't breakdown did you?"

"I'm fine Mihoshi," Tenchi answered, "And no I didn't breakdown, I'm still in Tokyo."

"Ohh," was all Mihoshi said, "Are you coming home this weekend?"

"Yes Mihoshi," Tenchi answered noticing some the energy ahd dropped out Mohishi's normally perky voice, "I just had a long day today and I'm not up to driving back tonight so I'll head out there tomorrow morning."

"Well ok I guess," She sounded rather disappointed, "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"I'll be there early, ok Mihoshi," Tenchi promised before hanging up.

Far away in the Misaki house seated next to lake and below an ancient shrine Washu was tapping her foot in irritation while Mohishi just stood there holding the phone to her ear. From the sounds of things Tenchi would not be home this night, but still she wasn't sure. It was strange for Tenchi to not leave Tokyo right after his Friday classes and make the drive to Okoyama. She wondered what the reason was, usually Tenchi was as good as clock work. There was only one thing to do in this situation Washu concluded, interrogate the blonde.

"Is Tenchi going to be her tonight," Washu asked.

"No," she said finally lowering the phone, disheartened.

Standing in the silence of a house once filled with joy and life all either scientist or officer could was wonder why.

Author's Note

Here we go another bit for this story. I kinda like writing in this format, no pressure this way. Anyways I'll have another one up this week for sure. As to where this is going give it a few more chapters and I'll get to the point of this tale and why I'm doing it. It will tie in with Dream Lost in several ways once I get back to that story in the future. Anyways thanks for the reviews and please keep 'em coming.

Smack54


	3. Wanderer in the Mists

Wanderer in the Mists

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Tenchi characters Pioneer does. I do however claim rights over all original characters herein and expressly ask anyone wishing to use them to obtain my permission first.

Foreword; This story takes place after Midnight on the Last Perfect Day and assumes that you have read said story. 

The red curtains to the bay window were thrown wide to allow in the light of the half moon and twinkling stars of the warm Jurian night. Spread out before them was the landscape of the palace dotted in the lights of man against the darkness and bathed in the silver purity of a moon not yet realized. Yet as spectacular as the view was it was wasted on the couple seated on the couch before that massive piece of glass. Their eyes were only for the other. Gold stared into Sapphire and each seemed to want to be fused into the other to create the most perfect of jewelry. And while this goal seemed impossible their lips meant with just such an intent. Soon his arms circled her slender waist as her delicate seeming fingers snaked their way through his brown blonde hair. Her lips parted to allow in his moist tongue as she gently pulled him down on top of her. When his hand reached into her flimsy robe, gliding across her smooth flesh until he found what he sought she breathed his name as he buried his face into her neck. An instant latter she tightened her grip on his hair as the waves of pleasure engulfed her senses.

Tenchi awoke with a start as the vivid dream faded away and reality took center stage. He placed a hand to his chest trying to slow his rapid breathing and thumping heart. Slowly he regained control by taking several deep breaths to slow his breathing and shook his head vigorously trying to clear away the dull images imprinted on his brain. With a flourish he threw away his sodden sheets and only then realized he was covered in a cold sheen of sweat. With another steadying breath he groggily pulled his protesting body to it's feet. Shaking away the last vestige of his nightmare Tenchi groped about blindly for a moment in the dull half light of his curtained bedroom before opening the window to let in the early morning sun. 

It was Sunday morning and the sight of the sun coming up over the smooth waters of the lake was a warming sight to the troubled young man standing on the deck of his former home. Tenchi knew it was wrong but he really couldn't think of this place as his home anymore. Too much had changed even if the landscape hadn't. Without the two princesses and the little cabbit the house seemed as empty as his heart. Worse though was the silence, it was too quite these days with only three people living there along with two who were there on occasion, himself included. But the biggest cause of the silence was the lack of one loudmouth pirate and her constant noise. Tenchi frowned at that thought before turning around to go back inside. He didn't want to think about Ryoko right then, not after another one of those dreams.

The smell of breakfast being cooked greeted him as Tenchi yawned his way down the stairs. _Washu must be up and cooking, _the unrecognized crown prince thought to himself as he crossed the empty living room. Most likely his father was still abed enjoying the rare chance to sleep in, while his grandfather was probably already up at the shrine starting his days work. Not that Tenchi ever really understood what it was that took up so much of his Grandfathers time. He let his thoughts wander away as he reached for the sliding door that led into the kitchen of the Masaki home. 

"Good morning Tenchi," Washu called out over her shoulder as her hands busily worked over the pots and pans arranged neatly on the stove. 

"Good morning to you too Little Washu," Tenchi greeted allowing her the indulgence with her name. After all she was the one making breakfast. Tenchi still found the sight as odd as the first time he had seen four years earlier. He had to give the diminutive scientist credit, she was an excellent cook. It wasn't up to Sasami's level, but it put his own skills to shame and tasted a whole lot better than the processed garbage he ate on campus during the week. 

"Did you sleep well Tenchi," the red head asked tasting the miso soup from a small saucer.

"Not really," Tenchi said letting his shoulders slump, "I had one of those dreams again."

"I'm sorry Tenchi," Washu said turning around to face him for the first time since he walked in the room, "Do you want to try the field dampener again?"

"No, that's alright," he answered to her concerned green eyes. The first time he had had one of those dreams Washu built a machine she said would keep him from dreaming. The invention was in the form of four poles each topped with a small dish that pointed down at an angle. When placed at the four corners of his bed they created a field wherein the subject was unable to dream. However using the device left Tenchi feeling drained and weak for several days after. Washu had done an analysis to try to find the cause of his lethargy but as of yet had no answers. So Tenchi was left with his nightmares of Ryoko and her passions with another man. 

"Well breakfast will be ready soon," Washu said turning back to her work, leaving Tenchi to sort out his thoughts for himself, "Why don't you go up to the shrine and get your Grandfather."

"Sure little Washu," Tenchi said monotonously biting the inside of his cheek and wondering.

Tenchi was pulling on his jacket as he stepped out into the brisk morning when he noticed the man coming up the path. A light mist had settled into the mountain valley overnight so it was hard to make out who it was coming up the path. They rarely had visitors this far up into the mountains and none ever came unannounced. Unless they were falling out of the sky that was. Tenchi didn't recall his grandfather saying anything about anyone coming to see the shrine today which instantly roused his suspicions. After all the last person to walk up that road unannounced and uninvited had been the weapons master Matthew Aaron Carson. Frowning with suspicion Tenchi trotted across the wooden bridge to meet the stranger before he made it to the house.

The stranger came to a stop before the bridge when he saw Tenchi coming towards him. Tenchi pulled to a stop several feet from the old man standing before him. Not recognizing the man but feeling a familiar aura about the stranger Tenchi gave him the once over. The old man appeared to be in his late sixties with age spots on his hands and temples where his slat and pepper hair receded slightly from his smooth forehead. He wore comfortable looking walking shoes along with tan slacks where his slid his hands into the pockets. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and a brown leather jacket was thrown over his shoulders to ward off the chill of the mountain morning. His grey eyes were as hard as flint chips as he took in Tenchi's appearance. The little man stood a full inch shorter than Tenchi but the aura of danger about him gave the old man presence. Even when he smiled up affably at Tenchi the steel refused to leave his eyes, as if he were looking for an nuance of weakness in the young man standing before him. Uncomfortable with the scrutiny Tenchi greeted the odd man awkwardly.

"Good morning sir what can I do for you," Tenchi managed to get out scratching his head.

"What is your name young man," The old man's voice sound like the crack of a whip.

"Ummm, Tenchi sir," Tenchi said growing more uncomfortable by the moment under the gaze of those steely eyes, "Have you come to see the shrine, we don't get many visitors way out here."

"Don't make presumptions young man," snapped the little man, "I am here for my own business."

"Excuse me sir for being presumptuous," Tenchi bowed slightly, "It's just a little odd to have someone coming out here the early."

"I understand young man," the old man said somewhat apologetically, "This trip has left my nerves a bit frayed. It has been a long time since I left my home and I had hoped this would be the end of my journey."

"May I ask sir why it is that you are here." Tenchi did his best not to anger the old man again.

"Ahh, forgive me young man, the long walk has made me forget my manners, My name is Ryu Tsutargi," the old man gave Tenchi a slight bow while Tenchi pondered over the name. He knew he had heard it somewhere before. Before it clicked thought the smaller man spoke again, "In answer to your question Tenchi I am looking for something that has been lost."

"Lost sir," Tenchi asked perplexed, still trying to place the old man's name, "What is it you have lost?"

"My student," Ryu Tsutargi answered simply.

And then confirmation clicked in Tenchi's mind. This was Ryu Tsutargi, master to Matthew Aaron Carson. This little old man was the unlikely keeper of an art so deadly and feared he had been exiled from Japan over fifty years ago. Now Tenchi knew why this man's aura seemed so familiar, he was a weapons master. Teacher to the man who had stolen everything from Tenchi and left him with only ashes. 

Suddenly Tenchi knew this was not going to be a good day.

Author's Note

I LIVE! Ok with that out of the way I'd like to say that I am back and hopefully I can finish up this epic of mine. I'm coming back with this story first because it is the easiest for me write and it is the next one in the chronology of the Dreams Continuum. It was kind of disheartening to come back after so long and see the bad reviews my stories have gotten recently. In answer to them all I can say is please wait until I'm done, I am going somewhere with all this. Anyways I'm happy to be back online and writing again so expect to see updates to Dream Lost again in the near future also. It's good to be back and I'm looking forward to reviews, please keep 'em coming.


	4. Conflictions of the Heart

Disclaimer: I own neither Tenchi Muyo nor Love Hina they belong to their respective creators. Any and all original characters herein however do belong to me, any wishing to use them should contact the uathor for permission.

Foreword: This story is the third story in the Dreams Continuum series following Midnight on the Last Perfect Day and Dream No More. If you have not read Midnight this might not make a lot of sense to folks. If you would like to read Midnight On the Last Perfect Day click on the author's name above, Midnight can also be found on That said please enjoy the chapter.

Conflictions of the Heart

It wouldn't stop. For two days now his mind wouldn't shut up about it. He'd been able to avoid it for years but now he was forced back into the past. Forced to relive memories he didn't want in the first place. A week ago he could have cheerfully told someone it had all happened to someone else. Now he was back there again. The constant turmoil, the endless bickering and fights, the happiest time in his life. To be there with all five of them again. To be alive again. If only he had it to do over again, to not let his family slip through his grasp. To have stood up to the swordsman and said his love was what she truly needed.

Tenchi stood in the outdoor, padded practice area dubbed the 'Arena' by the students of Tokyo University wooden boken in hand going through the intricate katas of his native Juraian sword style. Tenchi was completely unaware of the motions he was putting his body through or the wide eyed stares of his fellow Kendo club members. He was lost in the swirling past and his body merely reverted to doing what it knew best when he held a sword. Before today Tenchi had been careful to not let on that he was already an accomplished swordsman and seasoned fighter. The awestricken looks of those around him would have been that much more disbelieving if they knew the origins of the style had been born on a world thousands of light years away. However one pair of eyes held a look of confirmation more than awe, the club president had always suspected there was more to the lean, sad eyed young man. Motoko Ayoama saw something she had been searching for a very long time. A challenge.

Unaware of his present surroundings Tenchi continued to try and sort through his tangled thoughts and feelings. Eventually he started from the beginning, but thinking about how it all started meant he had to think about who it began with and that led him straight to the ending, so he settled for something in the middle. His mind drifted back several years to when his training was not nearly as progressed and his grandfather constantly chided on his bad form. On a rather fateful day in a clearing the recently stranded princess had observed the two in practice and found a connection on this faraway world to her home. Eventually the truth of the matter would be unveiled under far more dire circumstances, but on that day Tenchi had felt the first stirrings of his heart.

Ayeka, heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Jurai. She was everything a princess should be, regal, graceful, witty. Yet on Earth she had a chance for the first time to be something more than her title. Tenchi came to know her as a friend and confidant. He saw her in her strength and weakness both. He came to understand the real Ayeka and not just the princess. And he loved her for it. She loved him too, he came to realize. Ayeka had stood beside him not matter the odds, willing to fight and even die for him. In the end though her duty had taken her away, back to the mysterious empire her family had ruled over for millennia untold. Tenchi tried to put it from his mind by thinking about another one of the girls but his mind gave him one final thought on the subject; _you wouldn't have lost her if you had able to make up your mind._

Shaking away that unwanted revelation Tenchi went back to his katas with renewed vigor. The next memory to merely dance into his flustered thoughts entered with a swirl of sky blue pigtails and shining pink eyes. This was Sasami, Ayeka's younger sister and inheritor of the power of Tsunami Goddess of Jurai and creator of the Space Trees that allowed them to become an empire. Sasami was also the best cook this side of known space. The happy go lucky twelve year old was the little sister Tenchi had never had. Sasami had been the bright spot in Tenchi's life when everything around him was in chaos. There were no complications there, just a simple caring for one another Tenchi still cherished to this day. He wondered what she was like now, for of course when her sister had returned home Sasami had been called away as well. Sometimes late at night Tenchi would lay in his empty little apartment and wonder if there was anyone on Jurai to soothe the young princess of her frequent nightmares. Tenchi hoped so, but at the same time he hoped it wasn't who he thought it was.

The boken snapped as it hit the padded floor unable to withstand Tenchi's anger driven strength. With a snarl Tenchi pushed the idea of the weapons master out of his conscious thoughts. The stinging in his palm brought Tenchi a measure of reality and it was only then he realized he had shattered the practice weapon. Looking around the Arena he noted the many pairs of eyes on him and hoped he could leave without answering too many questions. He picked up the pieces of his boken and moved towards a table on the sidelines that held a water dispenser along with several stacks of towels and disposable cups. Tenchi was just beginning to wipe the sweat from his brow with a towel when the club president approached him.

"Sorry about the Boken," Tenchi said somewhat lamely filling a cup of water as the tall, raven haired woman stopped before him. Tenchi never knew how to act around Motoko Ayoama, the focused, driven young woman was unlike anyone he had ever met. Serious to a fault Tenchi sensed within her an iron will that would accept nothing but the best from herself and those she instructed. Tenchi strongly suspected she knew he had been holding back, and now he had shown her just how much. He doubted he could walk away without some sort of explanation.

"Where did you learn your sword style," Motoko asked, never one to dance around an issue her dangerous glare bore into Tenchi's clouded thoughts and forced out an answer.

"My grandfather taught me," Tenchi said seeing no reason to outright lie, "He's a shrine keeper in Okoyama. The shrine is dedicated to a great Samurai and so all the shrine keepers have been trained as he was. My grandfather one day hopes I'll take over the shrine and so he taught me also."

"Why didn't you tell me when you joined the club," Motoko asked not completely satisfied and angry with her pupil's deception.

"The style has been passed on through the shrine keepers for a generations," Tenchi said trying to think quickly, "I'm not supposed to use it outside the temple grounds. I didn't mean to use it here today but I've had a really bad week and the katas always help me to put my thoughts together."

"I guess that is understandable," Motoko said still frowning, Tenchi took this as his chance to leave. Just as he was turning away Tenchi caught the dangerous glint in her eyes and knew she wasn't done with him. "However it does not excuse the fact that you lied to me and have brought dishonor to your shrine by using it's teaching against the precepts of it's founders. As such you are no longer a student of this club."

"What," Tenchi breathed in disbelief. Not that he had ever really wanted to join the club in the first place, his friend Keitaro had pushed him into it, but to be dismissed so quickly was shocking to Tenchi.

"Do you refute my judgment Masaki Tenchi," Motoko asked with deceptive calm.

"No offense Ms. President but this is only a club," Tenchi countered, "It's not like joining a formal school of swordsmanship."

"This club," Motoko hissed drawing out the word leaning in to glare at Tenchi Eye to eye, "Was founded to emulate a true Kendo School. While we follow the guidelines of any campus activity club we still honor the code of conduct set down by our masters. For all intents and purposes I am head master here, to challenge my judgment is to infringe upon my honor. To infringe upon my honor is to challenge me. Are you challenging me Masaki Tenchi?"

And for once in his life Tenchi lost his temper.

"Your damn right I am," he snapped back. The frustration of everything that had happened recently slammed down onto to Tenchi igniting his anger. The appearance of the old man had sent Tenchi on a downward spiral of memories he didn't want to remember. This past Sunday the former teacher of Matthew Aaron Carson had come looking for his lost student and Tenchi had been forced to recount the tale of the coming of the Guardian and the loss of everything he had come to love. It didn't help the old man is his own way was completely unnerving. There was a history between Ryu Tsutargi and Tenchi's grandfather that went back more than fifty years to when the practioners of Ryu's unique style had been systematically killed or banished. The old man was the last living master of the art, an art that had enabled his student to combat Tenchi on even terms despite Tenchi's Juraian powers.

Two years ago a tall American had come to the Misaki shrine looking for answers as to why he possessed abilities beyond normal comprehension. During his time there Matthew Aaron Carson turned Tenchi's life upside down by falling in love with Ryoko and daring to express that love. Events transpired to bring to life that Matt was a member of exiled Guardians to the Jurai Royal Family who had been cast out for challenging those they had been charged to protect. The climax of all this had ended on Jurai with Matt accepting a position within the royal family reclaiming his ancestors honor. He had also claimed Ryoko for his own. Unable to come to grips with his true feelings and make the decision he had avoided for so long Tenchi returned to Earth alone save Mihoshi and Washu.

The mere presence of Matt's teacher filled Tenchi with jealous loathing and set to boil the anger that had been brewing within for two years. Never before had the consequences of his indecisiveness been so real, or disastrous. Now brought to light, Tenchi was forced to examine his feeling honestly, and he knew what he had had let go of. So here he was plodding along from day to day aimlessly waiting for his life to start again. Instead of five loving alien women this time Tenchi got a dangerous old man who had threatened to kill them all. And just to top things off his Kendo club president had challenged him to a fight.

Tenchi couldn't change the past. He had lost Ayeka to duty, He had lost Sasami to a changing world. He had lost Ryoko to another man. Tenchi couldn't get rid of Ryu Tsutargi, his grandfather had forbidden it. Tenchi was going to be damned though if he couldn't defend himself against an iron fisted club president.

Grabbing a new Boken from the pile of practice gear set off to the side of the matted area Tenchi stormed into the center of the Arena and dropped a hooded glare over the tall, proud woman standing opposite him. She wanted to see what Tenchi was really made of so be it he thought to himself, _I stood up to Kagato, Matt, and Serendus I can stand up to her. _Muscles taunt, jaw clenched in angry determination Tenchi took up his stance. Feet apart, shoulder turned to make the target smaller, Tenchi held the wooden blade in both hands at hip level. With calm determined anger he awaited his opponent.

Taking her place several meters away Motoko bowed to her opponent, sword at her side as tradition dictated. Looking at her seething opponent already in stance Motoko took her sword in both hands and raised it above her head and twisted her tall, powerful frame into stance. She liked Tenchi, she truly did, but he had crossed the line this day and must face the punishment for his actions. No man could stand before her blade, and if she unleashed her full power none save Keitaro Urashima would likely survive. Trained this man across from might be but in Motoko's mind he lacked a warriors spirit. She was about to find out how wrong she was.

With a sweep of her ki Motoko brought her boken down with such tremendous force it split the air and sent it in a gust of power towards Tenchi. Expecting the fight to be over that quickly Motoko was shocked when she saw Tenchi twist in his stance and bring his handle up to eye level blade pointing downwards. Eyes wide in amazement Motoko watched as the man she had underestimated cut through her attack. She blinked once and almost lost the fight there as Tenchi rose to the balls of his feet and charged in blade low to the ground. In her shock Motoko managed to block the other's sword as it arced upwards making a dull thunk as the wood connected.

The sound pulled Motoko back into the fight but still she found her self on the defensive as Tenchi's rage played out. The blade chopped viciously downward almost forcing Motoko to her knees under the wieght of the blow. Quickly shifting her foot to the side she parried another attack the knifed in at her midsection. She quickly reversed her stance as Tenchi deftly snapped his boken around to cut in at her exposed flank. Again and again Motoko stopped the other wooden blade with her own. Yet she was struggling to keep up with her opponent's relentless attacks. Only once had she been forced to use all of her considerable skills to merely stay in the fight, and that had been against her own sister. Just who was this small statured boy?

And then the fight was over. Distracted by her thoughts Motoko allowed her self to be set up. Blades locked together after yet another of Tenchi's too hard strikes he put his palm to the back side of his blade near the tip and shoved Motoko back. She stumbled back just a step but in that moment of unbalance her grip on her weapon loosened. Tenchi capitalized on her mistake and hit her sword just above her hands wrenching the blade from her grasp. He followed through with the move and rammed his shoulder into hers while locking his foot behind her ankle.

Suddenly Motoko found herself sitting on the padded arena floor looking up along Tenchi's boken into his angry eyes with her own weapon resting a couple meters away. She had to blink several times before her mind registered what had just happened. She had lost. Motoko Aoyama had lost to a man that wasn't Keitaro Urashima. Defeated, not because of illness, embarrassment, or fear but because she had underestimated her opponent. Shamed she turned her eyes from his and studied the matted floor.

For his part Tenchi held his blade before Motoko's wide eyes for several moments his chest heaving with spent anger before dropping the boken to the ground with a clatter. Grabbing his equipment bag he stalked off through the hushed crowd of onlookers. He never bothered to look back at his fallen opponent . If he had he might have glimpsed the single crystalline tear that slid down Motoko's cheek.

Later that night Tenchi lay on his couch a pillow over his face to muffling his angry ramblings. On the coffee table set before the couch several textbooks sat open surrounded by a host of scribbled notes and unfinished assignments. At the corner of the table stood a cup of instant ramen; cold, forgotten, and congealing. He wore a baggy pair of pants and a hole filled old T-shirt scavenged from the pile of clothes on his floor. He had long ago given up any hope of getting anything done.

After returning home from the debacle at the Kendo Club Tenchi had taken a long hot shower and tried to rationalize his actions that afternoon. It had been extremely wrong of him to have taken out his frustrations on Motoko. Worse yet he had humiliated her in front of the entire club. He owed her an apology but was as yet unsure how to word it. He considered calling Keitaro and asking him to help with the phrasing of it, but in the end Tenchi felt she deserved an honest apology. Course he would leave out the part about alien women and traveling across the galaxy.

Lost in his thoughts and the world shut out as best he could with a pillow Tenchi almost didn't hear the light knock at his door. With a muffled curse he flung the pillow across the small room where it landed dejectedly against the television. Groaning Tenchi pulled himself to his feet and slogged towards the door. A glance at his mammoth clock showed Tokyo time at half past nine, for once he ignored Jurain Daily time and the subjacent trail of thoughts that lead to. Griping the handle to the door Tenchi wondered who it could be, half expecting a sopping wet Mihoshi or a despondent Keitaro after yet another fight with his girlfriend Naru. Shock pure and simple took him as he opened the door. His mind reeled and he found himself unable to find a coherent word. Mouth agape he could only stare at her.

"Hello," said his guest, "May I come in."

Author's notes

Wow been a long time since I've visited poor forgotten fic. Not sure what to say here for once so I'll keep it short. The goal of this story is to get Tenchi ready emotionally for the finale to the Dreams Continuum. He needs to come to grips with what occurred in Midnight on the Last Perfect Day and grow into himself as a person. Doing this story as a crossover with Love Hina gives me a nice slew of characters for Tenchi to interact with and me as the author to torture a few of my other favorite anime characters. Thoughts, opinions, rants and raves wanted so please leave a review.

Smack54


	5. Unexpected Meetings

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Tenchi or Love Hina they belong to their respective creators. I do however claim rights over all original characters herein and expressly ask anyone wishing to use them to obtain my permission first.

Foreword; This story takes place after Midnight on the Last Perfect Day and assumes that you have read said story.

Unexpected meetings

There was no escape. Trees rushed past in a blur of green and brown as her long toned legs pumped as fast as she could will them. Lungs expanded through years of dedicated training pulled in one ragged breath after another. Adrenaline flowed through every vain in an effort to stay ahead of her pursuer. Every fiber of her body screamed at her to stop and rest, every fiber except one, fear. Fear kept her running when time seemed to have lost all meaning and remembering anything prior to the hunt impossible. There was only the now, the fear, and the knowledge of what would happen at the end. Death.

Never before had her fate seemed to inevitable and final. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Her whole life she had trained to avoid being this helpless. But now something came for her that she couldn't defeat, a nameless monster the sought only to kill. She had witnessed others try and face this menace, all had fallen before the soulless beast. The scent of blood and death still filled her flared nostrils as she ran for her life knowing all the while escape impossible and victory even more so. Death had fixed it's flat eyes on her and so the hunt had began. But now the hunt was coming to an end. Ahead the trees began to thin and soon there would be nowhere to hide, nothing to offer cover, and no hope to be had when the end came.

Failing sun light lit the clearing as she stumbled through the brush her sandaled feet kicking a small cloud of dust. Try though she might her muscles gave out and she feel to the dirt hands first. Gasping for breath it was long moments before she looked up. She knew she was doomed, why bother trying anymore to escaper her fate. She bowed her head in acceptance, her long black hair forming a veil around her slumped form. She was tired, tired of it all, it was time to give in and accept. At that moment she decided to if she was going to die it was going to be on her feet with blade in hand.

She put one foot under herself and was starting to rise when she saw the figure. He stood across the clearing from her watching her with soulful, knowing eyes. The man was dressed in regal garb of indiscernible origin mostly white with the pattern of a tree at the breast rising towards the shoulder where it met a high neck guard of dark metal. In his right hand he clasped a bladeless sword. He stood straight and proud, his bearing humble but regal all at the same time. She knew then why he was here, he was the opposing force of death. He was life. Motoko Ayoama knew then who she was looking at. Before her stood Tenchi Masaki. Behind her death faded away into the shadows daunted when faced with those resolute eyes.

Motoko's eyes snapped open. Before her the sun was setting into the west setting the sky ablaze with orange and red. The archways of the shrine cast long shadows across the courtyard casting the small roofed building she sat under into gloom. Shaking away the unpleasant images of her meditation she walked out into the waning light of the day needing to feel the warmth of the sun on her face. Motoko stood there in the evening light sorting her thoughts. Rarely had her meditation ever given her such vivid images and never had she experienced anything approaching that level of terror.

"Tenchi," she whispered to the fading light.

_Why would I see him in my meditation, _Motoko thought trying to sort out the meaning of the strange vision. The fact that he had left a strong impression on her after the earlier events that afternoon was a given, but why there were still disturbing questions about the dream. What was it that had been chasing her in the dream that would inspire such fear in her normal ironclad courage? Why would she feel such relief on finding her normally depressed student? Where did the odd garments he wore come from? Motoko wanted answers and so she set her formidable mind to the task.

She had had nightmares before that left her shaken and awakening in a cold sweat, but in those dreams the threat was always the same, the turtle demon that had haunted her through most of her life. In this dream she had seen no such creature only a faceless threat. Of course there were a countless other number of enemies her school had earned over the long course of it's history. There was a good chance one of those may be the source of the threat, she would have to go through the schools history and see if she could identify anything. It would be as good a start as anything.

But what to do about Tenchi's appearance in the dream? After his display of anger and skill a few hours ago Motoko didn't quite know what to think of him anymore. Before he had been a withdrawn young man who merely joined the club at the insistence of their mutual friends. Now though Motko had to readdress her opinion of him. He not only possessed considerable skills but a powerful temper when pushed too far. He had also accomplished the near impossible, Tenchi Masaki had defeated her in an honest duel. Pride aside it that spoke volumes about his normally detached attitude. There was a mystery there that Motoko would like to see unraveled. The mystery deepened when she remembered how he had been dressed, the garb was unlike anything she had ever seen and yet looked right and fitting on Tenchi. Somehow it brought out a royal bearing that his normal clothes and indifferent slouch hid.

"I will speak to him at the next club practice," Motoko stated firmly to the empty shrine. Hopefully by then Tenchi would have calmed down and the two of them could speak on peaceful terms. Still though she was determined to discover more about his sword style and where it came from. With any luck she could at least get a worthy sparing partner out of all this. Keitaro was improving but in no way a test for her true skills.

"A club," the low voice startled Motoko as it came out of the shadows near the steps, "And here I was hoping you would be the shrine maiden. You aura speaks of more than a simple dabbler in a club. What a waste of your skills."

Motoko's eyes narrowed as she regained her composure and focused on the figure emerging from the shadow of one of the columns lining the temple pathway. As he stepped into the light Motoko almost laughed, the flinty look in his flat eyes however left the laughter caught in her throat. He couldn't have been much more than five feet tall with a bald pate. His clothes were loose and shabby over a wiry frame. His hands were nothing more than bone, tendons and large veins covered by wrinkled stretched skin. His cheeks were sagging but there was a hard look to him that said there was more to this little old man than meets the eye.

"Who are you," Motoko demanded, "What are you doing here."

"My name is of little importance," the old man's voice sounded like a whip cracking across brittle ice, "And though my business is my own I was here to see if this temple was still being well cared for. I saw you meditating and thought you might be the shrine maiden. I did not wish to disturb you and so I waited. However now knowing whatever skill you possess is completely wasted I am done here."

Motoko could only stare dumb founded as the little man turned on his heel and headed towards the stair. The rudeness of the whole encounter daunted her. _How dare some little old man mock me, _she thought face reddening with anger. She was the heir to one of the most prestigious Kendo schools in all of Japan. Her family had fought and defeated invaders and demons alike. Motoko herself was a national champion who had never lost a sanctioned match. Gripping the scabbard of the Hina blade tightly Motoko marched off after the old man her mood as black as her swords blade.

She caught up to him as he reached the bottom of the stair. Just as she reached out to grab the smaller man by the shoulder a shiver ran down her spine. And a calloused hand clamped over her wrist. She caught a brief look in his flat eyes and saw nothing beyond but anger. Suddenly she felt the impact of his left foot hitting her right ankle as his stance widened and he pulled her into a shoulder through. Reflex and years of training allowed Motoko to roll as she hit the ground. She came to on knee, hand on her sword hilt. The two sudden opponents locked stares, and in that moment Motoko knew she was outmatched. The Ki radiating off this harmless looking old man was as powerful as it was dark. Whoever her was this man had used his skills to kill, countless victims must have fallen in his wake.

Still she could not leave the challenge unmatched. She charged the old man drawing her sword as she took the last few steps towards him. He looked unconcerned as she released a powerful wave of condensed energy towards him. At this range Motoko knew there was no chance for him to dodge out of the way. She expected to here the sound of his crumpled body hitting the pavement several yards away. Instead the old man merely turned side stance into the blast and his left arm whipped up. Motoko thought she saw a glint of steel but he moved so fast there was no way to be sure. Suddenly she felt the impact of something hitting her sword and in her surprise saw the man held a sai in his left hand. _A sword breaker, _Motoko panicked thinking she was about to lose another sword. The three prongs of the small weapon were intertwined with her blade and when Motoko felt her opponent twist she let go of her sword rather than see a dear gift destroyed.

The next thing Motoko knew she was sitting on the ground her inner thigh throbbing in pain from a swiftly delivered kick. Her sword was laying on the ground several meters away. Now towering above her the old man was studying her with intense interest and the flat steel of his eyes was cracked showing her the sorrow beneath. In shame Motoko looked away, twice in a single day she had been defeated. First by Tenchi and his unexpected skill and know by another she had underestimated. Pride and arrogance had left her blinded to the strength of others.

"Have no fear child," the old said his voice quiet having lost it's previous sharp edge, "I will not harm you. I am sworn to the defense of my people and would never harm them."

He left her then in the darkening shadows of the early night to retrieve her sword. Motoko merely sat on the ground feeling nothing and numb to the world. When he returned inspecting her sword she looked up at him wondering how he could handle the dangerous artifact so easily. It had taken her weeks of careful meditation before she was able to draw the cursed sword unharmed. Who was this strange man?

"This is a very special sword child," the old man said presenting the sword to her hilt first, "Never in my life have I seen a cursed blade restored. There is a history there I would like to know one day. To place such a powerful spirit at rest takes considerable will power and something else, something rare for a warrior to find. It is good to see the Shinmae school still maintains it's compassion."

"You know about Shinmairyuu," Motoko asked in wonder, "Who are you sir?"

"I do dear child, although it has been fifty years since I last witnessed it's power first hand," the old man smiled, "My name is Ryu Tsutargi, and I must apologize for my earlier actions. My day has been unpleasant and I overreacted at hearing you were part of kendo club. I did not wish to witness another waste of talent this day. You are skilled beyond your years girl, I wish you luck in your training. I must depart now, however I would speak with you again. I will be here at the shrine the day after tomorrow if it pleases you. Farewell daughter of Shinmeiryuu."

"Wait," Motoko called but the old man had disappeared into the shadows like a wraith.

Finally, after many long minutes Motoko climbed to her feet and slid her sword into it's scabbard. She continued to stare off in the direction of the old man. _Ryu Tstargi_, why did that name sound familiar to her. Whoever he was he knew about her school and it's history which meant he had had contact with her clan before. Motoko would have to get into contact with her sister at the school and find out if there was any information on Ryu Tsutargi.

Motoko made her way home to Hintata-sou by train lost in thought the entire way. Her arrival home went unnoticed by her dorm mates who might have taken notice of her unusual far away look. She ate dinner not really paying attention to what it was or to the others at the table. Su's antics failed to provoke a response from her and even a transgression by Keitaro went unpunished when he ended up in a heap on the ground along with Shinobu and Naru. The resident chef had slipped and was about to take a nasty fall when Keitaro had reached out to save her, unfortunately his free hand counter balancing him grabbed onto Naru's blouse and all three ended up in a rather undignified position. Of course things sorted themselves out quickly thanks to Naru's rapid and violent response. Keitaro ended up airborne on trajectory for the moon while Shinobu moaned in disbelief and Naru panted with laden rage. Motoko merely excused herself and left the room.

She spent an hour soaking in the hot spring before working up the courage to call home. She used that time to wrack her brain for any information she could remember about the name Tsutargi. She had heard the name before but the source of it eluded her. Finally she gave up and mustered the nerve to call he dojo and get the information she wanted. It was never easy calling home, no one a there seemed to understand why she didn't feel ready to take over as head master. Of course she wouldn't let on that she had been defeated twice today.

"Hello," came a bright voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello Sister," Motoko began apprehensive, "How are you doing?"

"Motoko," came the surprised voice of her sister.

"Yes, Tsuroko," Motoko smiled in spite of herself, "It's me."

"Motoko, you never call home," her sister continued in teasing disbelief, "This is either an imposter or you called to tell you're getting married."

"Neither Sister," Motoko said her smile widening, "I was calling because I needed to talk to you about something concerning the school."

"So you've finally decided to come home," Tsuroko's voice was still teasing but there was a hint of hope in her tone.

"No Sister, I haven't," Motoko sighed, her sister would never change, "I encountered a man today."

"So you are calling to tell you got married," Tsuroko cut in chuckling.

"I am not," Motoko snapped, :"This is serious Tsuroko. I met a man named Ryu Tsutargi this afternoon. He was very skilled and powerful despite his age. He also knew about Shinmeiryuu. I know I have heard that name before but I just can't place it."

Silence. There was nothing from the other end of the phone for a few long moments before her sister's voice exploded out of the receiver.

"You met Ryu Tsutargi and let him walk away," Tsuroko's voice held and edge to it Motoko had never heard before, anger mixed with fear.

"I did not merely let him walk away sister," Motoko bristled, "He challenged my honor and we fought."

"You challenged Ryu Tsutargi and he walked away," disbelief evident in her sister's voice.

"I wouldn't say that," Motoko said red with chagrin, "He defeated me soundly and then disappeared."

"Listen to me Motoko," her sister said voice lowering to a vert serious tone, "If you see this man again you are to turn and walk the other direction. You have no idea how lucky you are."

"But Sister," Motoko said appaled that Tsuroko would sound so afraid, "Who is this old man."

"Ryu Tsutargi is a weapons master Motoko," Tsuroko answered.

Then it hit her, Motoko remembered where she had heard the name before. Fifty years ago at the end of World War II the last of weapons masters had been hunted down and banished or killed. They deemed too dangerous to be allowed to stay in Japan and pass on their teachings. A style so deadly a single weapons master could kill a hundred armed soldiers. Ryu Tsutargi had been the best, a killer unmatched in all of Japan's history. Of course the man had been banished and subsequently forgotten. Except for those who had helped to track them down and dispose of them one way or the other. The Shinmai school had been one of these. Along with the help of the descendant of an ancient samurai her great grandparents had captured Ryu Tsutargi, the last of the weapons masters to be found. The details of what Ryu Tsutargi had done during the hunt did not make for pleasant reading.

"Motoko, are you listening to me," Tsuroko interrupted Motoko's train of thought.

"Yes sister," Motoko answered, "I'm listening."

"Good," the voice said worried, "No matter what anyone tells you Ryu Tsutargi is a danger to us all. He must be found immediately."

"He told me to meet him at a shrine in two days if I wanted to talk to him again," Motoko said hoping something could be done.

"Don't you dare show up for that meeting Motoko," her sister warned, "I'll contact those who can deal with him."

"But sister," Motoko had to ask, "If he really is a weapons master who can defeat him. I have faced an aura like his. Even the whole school might nto be enough."

"I know Motoko," she answered, "The last time we had help. There is a hermit and shrine care taker in the mountains of Okiyama that can help us if he's still alive."

"The desendant of the Samurai who helped capture him before," Motoko asked.

"Yes, the caretaker of the Masaki shrine," her sister said, "A lord Katsuhito by name."

"Masaki," Motoko mumbled wondering why the named sounder familiar to her. Then it hit her.

"Sister, this Masaki person was the cause of Ryu Tsutargi's capture," Motoko asked suddenly very worried.

"Yes, It was Katsuhito who at last defeated Tsutargi."

"Thank you Tsuroko," Motoko said rapidly, "I have to go now."

"Wait, Motoko wait!"

But Motoko didn't hear, she was already on her feet and out the door Hina blade in hand.

She ran out of Hinata-sou so fast she left poor Shinobu spinning. She ran like the devils of the underworld were at her heels. She could only pray she made it in time. It made sense now, defeated twice in one day by two styles that had been at odds for generations. Tenchi was the heir of that style that had defeated Ryu Tsutargi. Motoko could only hope she could get to him in time to warn him.

She made the train station is record time and could only fume in frustration as it rode through the night towards Tokyo. When she found her stop she began her mad dash again. People who didn't get of her way were merely shoved aside rudely. More than once she heard muttered curses at her back. Motoko didn't care. She had to get to Tenchi's apartment. She knew where he lived from his registration papers at the club. She found his apartment building not far from Tokyo University and bounded up the stairs to his third story room.

She stopped dead at the end of the hall leading towards his room. The door was open and standing in it bathed in the light from within was a girl. Long purple hair streamed down her back nearly to her ankles. Motoko stopped to ponder who this might be and what connection this woman had to all of this. The purple haired woman was dressed a regal form of robes that Motoko found disturbingly familiar yet unable to place. The woman was acting a formal manner but her voice cracked several times as she asked to come in. For some unknown reason Motoko held her breath as Tenchi ushered the noble looking girl into his apartment.

"Now what do I do," Motoko whispered to the empty hallway.

Author's Notes

Hey the chapters are getting longer. I consider this a good sign as I'm starting to feel like writing more again. Anyways, I recently thought about combining this story and Dream Forgotten into one and going from there but I started writing on this chapter and an epiphany hit me. I had been ignoring poor Ayeka since Midnight on the Last Perfect Day. Not sure what to do with her yet but I'll come up with something. Thanks to all the people who read and review, you make my day, keep 'em coming. Till next chapter.

Smack54


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